At the End of the Night
by Nythembra
Summary: Dana asks Cecil about his tattoos, and Cecil opens up to Dana about Carlos. This will be a short series of ficlets involving Dana and Cecil, and their nights together at Night Vale Community Radio.
1. Of Tattoos and Concern

"Why tentacles?"

He didn't look up from the papers in his hand at her question, but instead lifted his station coffee mug to his pale lips, and took a quick sip before setting it back down again. By now, he was used to her slightly random inquiries that sometimes popped up in his headset when they weren't on-air. She had been asking him questions like that since the first day she'd become comfortable working with him. Granted, that had taken a while.

"Cecil?" She dragged his name out a bit, begging to get his attention.

"Hmm?" He pretended to be lost in the text in front of him.

"Why the tentacles?"

Violet eyes still scanned the sheets in his other hand, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She never did let him ignore her. "They come in handy."

His reply came casually, in his non-radio voice. Slightly higher and more nonchalant than the deep, mellifluous tone he normally used when reading off the daily news and traffic reports.

The slight click of her pressing her speaker switch was heard, and a faint hint of static came through his headset again before she spoke. "Handy? What do you mean?"

Cecil shrugged and quickly licked his thumb before flipping the page of his stapled stack of notes. "Y'know," he said with a slight drag to his voice. "They're useful."

A moment went by and no reply came. For the first time since they'd gone to The Weather, the radio host lifted two of his three eyes to her, leaving the omnipresent one on his forehead fixed in his notes. He found Dana pouting at him through the window that separated them, her chin resting in her hands. When their eyes met she expectantly raised one dark eyebrow, before glancing down at his forearms pointedly.

The radio host smirked and placed down the notes before pushing up his shirt sleeves a bit more to better display the Cthulian tattoos that nearly reached his wrists. "Why are you pouting?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically at him before pressing her speaker switch again to scold him in her tiny voice. "Cecil, you know I hate it when you tease me and dodge my questions like that."

He feigned innocence. "I didn't dodge your question."

"You didn't really tell me what I wanted to know, either. You know I hate that too."

Cecil brightly smiled at her in amusement and shrugged before leaning back in his office chair. He put his feet up on the desk, and fiddled with the laces of his purple Converse. "Yeah, but your reactions are always so cute."

Her glare deepened, but she felt her cheeks turn red.

"Sorry," he claimed, trying to hide his smile. "Why do you think I chose the tentacles?"

Dana lifted her hands in the air. "I don't know," she remarked, "they're your tattoos, so they're your story."

Tilting his head - the way he aways did when he was about to say something clever - he blinked all three eyes at once, then raised an eyebrow. "Well, Miss Intern, when you're interviewing to report a story, if you want to know specifics, you need to know to ask the right questions."

Dana scoffed and leaned back in her seat, defeatedly. A few months ago she might have asked him if every conversation _really_ had to be a reporting exercise, but by now she was used to his consistent hampering in day to day discussion. He took his job seriously and he wanted her to do the same. Though this time, she was a bit at a loss for questioning.

"I'll let you think about it a little bit while I finish up the show," Cecil added, leaning forward again. He adjusted his headset and nodded towards her switchboard. "Watch it, that weather segment is about to end."

Dana adjusted her own headphones and turned to the time on the recording, switching it off the moment it ended, and nodding to Cecil who began speaking into his microphone, voice suddenly deeper and smoother than a moment before. "Welcome back, listeners," he began, and Dana's mind trailed away from work and back to her mentor's forearms.

The black, tribal tentacles were very prominent against his pale skin, and the little runes and markings that covered the spaces in between them were very elaborate. They were also very beautiful, much like Cecil himself.

Dana studied her mentor at that thought, peering at him through the window behind the gleam of the switchboard lights. He wasn't thin, but he wasn't fat either. He wasn't short, but he wasn't tall. He was fit, but not athletic, and simply average in his height. His features were young, and though Dana had never asked him his age, she guessed he was in his early thirties. His fair skin and almost colorless, somewhat messy hair sometimes made him appear to glow in the broadcasting room he always kept so dark. Maybe he _was_ glowing.

His violet eyes - the two normal ones, at least - sometimes did give off a bit of light on the occasions when she witnessed him to be a bit emotional. Like whenever someone mentioned Carlos, the scientist, (and more recently, Cecil's boyfriend) his irises would illuminate just a bit, though only for a moment or two. The only time she'd ever seen them do more than that, was when Carlos had been thought killed by the little people in the tiny city ten feet beneath Night Vale. When he'd covered his face with his hands and silently sobbed into them, shoulders shaking, Dana had seen the light from his irises shining brightly from between his fingers, and the omnipresent one had slipped closed to see no more of the horror that had come down upon the scientist.

The memory of seeing her mentor like that stung her, and she pulled herself away from it, looking up. She met Cecil's gaze through the window as he was just saying his famed, closing line, his hands resting readily on the speakers of his headset. She noticed a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

" … and until then, goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."

He pulled the headset down from over his ears, letting them rest around his neck, and pressed the button to stop broadcasting. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Dana, the same smile still tugging at his lips.

Dana tilted her head at him and pressed the speaker switch. "What?"

The radio host shrugged casually and pursed his lips at his intern. "Nothing, just noticed you staring at me."

'Damn that third eye of his.' While she knew that Cecil's third eye was what allowed him to see most of what was happening anywhere in Night Vale at any time, she was thankful that she knew it didn't let him see her thoughts.

Dana rubbed her face to hide her blushing cheeks and feign being tired. "Sorry, I was zoning out," she fibbed, and she was certain that it was obvious. Cecil said nothing and, lowering her hands, she found him running his fingers through his hair, two of his dimly glowing eyes floating a bit wistfully around the dark broadcasting room, while the third one stared straight ahead, surveying something in Night Vale in the way that only it could. The intern rolled her eyes.

"Hey," she said into her microphone to get his attention.

"Hm?" Cecil's wandering eyes darted from the ceiling and back to her own. "What?"

"Quit spying on Carlos and answer my question."

He rolled all three eyes then, and the third one slipped closed. Leaning back in his chair, he put his feet up on the desk and crossed his ankles. "I was just seeing what he was up to, it wasn't hurting anything," he indicated, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Though I thought you were going to come up with a better way to ask me?"

Dana shook her head insistently, dark curls bouncing about her head. "Nope, not this time. I just want an explanation."

Cecil grinned at her softly from his reclined position, and Dana found herself looking back at him with a similar expression. Seeing him in his entirety, she found herself thinking that she liked his style. What, always in collared shirts, vests, and ties. Sometimes jeans, sometimes khakis. Most of the time Converse, and always, always in purple. It matched his eyes really well.

Dana sighed. 'The good ones are always co-workers, taken, or gay,' she thought humorously. 'Though, I guess in this case it's all three.'

Not that she had a problem with that. While Cecil was indeed handsome, all of the above somehow added to his charm. Besides, she would never want to ruin the rather cool working relationship they already had. Sometimes she might be brave enough to even think of it as a friendship.

"Come in here."

Dana snapped back to attention. "Come in _there_?" She asked, looking at her mentor a bit suspiciously.

"Yeah, don't be scared," he said teasingly, reaching up to pull the light switch on the desk lamp, illuminating the room. "I'll show you rather than just give you an answer. That's probably easier anyway, really."

"Show me?" Dana pulled her headset off and laid it on her desk. Spinning in her chair, she stood up and opened the door next to the window between the two of them. "Shouldn't we be leaving soon," she asked. "Station Management might get agitated if we are here past clock-out time. I don't want to face that wrath after last time."

"Oh, you can hardly see the scars anymore," Cecil exclaimed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It wont take that long."

Sighing, Dana somewhat reluctantly moved over to where Cecil sat pushing up his sleeves. She sat on the edge of the desk and watched him curiously.

"Should I be nervous?" She pestered.

"Don't be silly," he replied, stretching out his arms, palms up. "Though I _would_ stand back, if I were you."

His intern jumped a bit at the comment, but didn't move from her spot. Instead, she leaned forward and stared at Cecil's forearms. Something was happening to the radio host's tattoos.

Slowly, as if hesitant to move from its comfortable spot on his arm, one of the Cthulian appendages peeled itself from it's placement, seeming to instantly take on a three dimensional form, and reached into the air.

"Woah!" Dana leaned back a bit as, seemingly all at once, the other tattoos lifted themselves from Cecil's skin, and began to slowly, fluidly wave about in the air. "Cecil, that's so cool!"

"Yeah," her mentor replied a bit matter-of-factly, "They actually work by will. I have a very amazing tattoo artist. Well, I _did _before the Secret Police vaporized him for having an expired tattooing license."

Though she didn't have any herself, Dana had always known about the interesting property of tattoos; that, if not properly applied, they could sometimes move around the wearer's skin and change colors, though almost always not by the subject's choice. If you didn't have a good tattoo artist, chances were they might even burn the wearer in an attempt to escape their fleshy prison. However, if you had a talented tattooist, they would mostly stay where they were supposed to, and hardly ever hurt you. Sadly, it was rare that good tattoos were ever seen around Night Vale on the account of most artists dying before they could ever master the craft. Normally because they were killed by their own creations.

"What do they feel like?" the intern asked.

One of the black tentacles reached out and neared Dana's hand. She hesitantly moved to touch it before it brushed against her palm, presumably by Cecil's will. The intern gasped a bit, finding it warm and just a tiny bit viscid.

"They're a bit sticky, but they have to be if I want them to stay on my skin," the radio host explained. "I can move them just like any other limbs on my body, but I can't really use them around here because my shirt gets in the way. They extend all the way to my back, you see." He lifted one on his left arm and wrapped it around his headset, lifting it from around his neck and placing them on their hook by his desk.

Dana was watching them closely, when a thought crossed her mind. "Wait," she said, dropping her hand from touching one of the inky, black forms, "Does _Carlos_ know they do this?"

Cecil looked away from her eyes for a moment, his own ∫ darting to the ceiling in thought, his irises emitting a dim glow. A mischievous smile formed over his lips. "Well-"

The intern held up her hands and squeezed her brown eyes shut. "Never mind, I don't want to know anymore.

The radio host laughed. "Yeah, he knows," he said innocently enough. "He finds them _fascinating._ Though, you know, I didn't really get them just for simple reasons like helping me with household chores and fending off killer mosquitos."

"What did you get them for?"

Cecil let out a small sigh, and Dana watched as all six tentacles, three on each arm, suddenly shrunk back into the radio hosts skin. They pressed themselves against the spots from which they came, and sank back into their two-dimensional state, ceasing to move.

"I got them because this job is so very dangerous," he answered. "After my first few weeks here, I realized that in order to get through many of the tasks that Station Management asked I do, I was going to need something to help protect myself from the especially dangerous ones that I knew were to come until I found myself as the Voice of Night Vale."

Dana was staring at him with wide eyes. "And," she said slowly, "I'm assuming they helped?"

He nodded in reply. "Mostly. Honestly, it was enough of a risk just getting them because of everything that could go wrong, but really, it was one of the smartest things I've ever done. I wish I knew a tattooist as good as the one I found all those years ago, so maybe you could have something to help you. Not that I don't think you're entirely capable, of course, but…" He trailed off suddenly, and dejectedly looked down at the floor a few feet ahead of him.

His intern felt a wave of anxiety come over her a she understood what he was going to say. So many interns had come into Night Vale Community Radio to never again see the light of day, and many of those who survived often ran screaming from the building, never to return. She could only imagine the amount of promising, bright, young people that Cecil had seen come and go during his time at the radio station.

"Cecil," Dana spoke in a reassuring tone, "I know you're worried about me, but I can't help but feel as thought I was born for this. I feel like something has been drawing me to the radio station ever since I was small, and I'm very determined to do my very best here. I don't want you to think that I don't know what a risk I'm putting my self in, because I do. I just have this … this _feeling _that whatever it is that has been pushing and pulling me to do Night Vale radio isn't something that I can't handle. In fact, I think it's going to take me on a grand adventure. Whatever that adventure is, I promise you, I'm ready for it."

Cecil listened to her motionlessly, and when she'd finished, he lifted his face back up to see the girl sitting on his desk. Her dark skin and eyes seemed to radiate with confidence, and her head of untamable, curly, black hair certainly made her seem as though she was tough enough to take on anything. Even through that adorably meek voice of hers, Cecil could hear that she knew that she was right.

"I wish I could see the future and not just what's happening around Night Vale," he sighed, tapping a finger to his forehead. "As much as I believe that you believe what you believe, I'd certainly like to know that I don't have to worry about you. You've made it so far, and I've been very impressed with you. I've grown rather attached to you, you know, Dana?"

Dana found herself blushing again, and she looked down at the floor. "Um. Yes, sir."

The radio host tilted his head at her inquiringly. "You haven't called me that in a while. I told you, you never have to be so formal. You can always call me by my first name."

The intern nodded and then shrugged. "I know, but sometimes it just feels like I should show you a bit more respect than that." She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her purple NVCR sweatshirt. "I _do_ have a lot of respect for you, you know."

Cecil smiled a brilliant smile and shook his head at her. "It makes me feel so odd when it comes from you though. We're friends, Dana. Please just call me by my first name."

Dana thought back to a few minutes ago when she'd been contemplating her relationship with her mentor, and beamed. As much as she thought she could consider him a friend, she had never quite thought that the radio host might think of her the same way. Of course, he'd been the one to make her feel the most welcome when she'd first come to the station. He'd been the one to be patient with her when she made mistakes, instead of screaming at her in deafening, monstrous shrieks like Station Management. Ultimately, he'd been the one to pull her out of her shell, and get her to be more confident in her approach to just about everything. If not for Cecil Palmer, Dana wouldn't be nearly as capable of what she was today, regardless of whatever had been calling her here.

The intern smiled at the famed radio host, and blushed a bit more deeply. "I've become very attached to you too, Cecil," she said assuredly. "And thank you. You know, for everything."

"You're welcome, Dana."

The two of them turned off the rest of the broadcasting equipment and made their way outside, passing through the bloodstone door and out into a wonderfully starlit sky. Cecil immediately spotted Carlos sitting cross-legged the hood of his truck, across the parking lot. A huge smile spread across his face, and his violet eyes shone a bit more brightly than normal.

"I guess my ride is here," he cooed, and Dana teased him by sticking out her tongue and dramatically rolling her eyes.

"Doesn't he ever wear anything other than flannel? He looks like a lumberjack all the time."

"Shut up, he looks adorable."

"Tell him I said 'hi,'" the girl mentioned as she began walking backwards towards her home. "Maybe one day when you're not so preoccupied with each other, I can talk to him again and warn him how horrible you are."

"Don't make my tattoos strangle you," her friend retorted with a half smile. "See you tomorrow, Intern Dana."

Dana smiled brightly as she turned around to face where she was going. "Yeah. You will."


	2. Of Love and Chaos

"Do you think he likes me?"

Dana glanced up from the desert survival book in her hands, and swallowed the last bit of her dinner she'd been chewing, her feet propped up on her switchboard. Cecil was sitting straight up in his chair, looking at his intern blankly through the window that separated them, headset over his ears. His messy, pale blonde hair hung over the third eye on his forehead, and the two violet ones that were visible appeared wide and pleading for reassurance, his eyebrows knitted slightly. She couldn't see his hands as they were in his lap, but she knew him well enough at this point to guess that she was probably twirling his thumbs.

The intern raised an eyebrow and answered him in a flat tone. "Are you serious right now?"

"Dana," his normally smooth and mellifluous voice came out as a long, drawn out whine. "Of course I'm serious. Sometimes I really wonder. I mean, there are times when it's so great being with him. When we're having fun and we're cuddling, and kissing, and talking about things we like. But then there are other times when I feel like he barely even listens to me. Like, he'll be really distant and stare off into space all the time, and then later, he wont remember anything I said to him. And he's always checking his watch and looking up at the sky like he's bored of being with me, or he'd rather be somewhere else. He always makes weird comments about Night Vale and will interrupt me to ask really obvious questions…"

Dana threw down her book and rapidly pulled her legs from off of the desk, only to quickly lean forward and snatch her microphone, pulling it closer with both hands curled around it's neck.

"... like 'Why is the sky that shade of yellow today? Should it be like that?' Then he'll go off on some tangent, talking to himself about the colors not making sense because of the color of the sun, and-'"

"Cecil!" Dana shouted into her mic, and her mentor jumped, pulling his headset down from around his ears in surprise. "Cecil, calm down. Think seriously about what you're asking me right now."

"But, Dana, I-"

"No! No. Just think about it for a second."

An awkward moment passed as the two stared at each other blankly, Dana's hands still wrapped around her microphone, and Cecil's still grasping the sides of his headset. Not taking his eyes from her, he slowly put the speakers back up over his ears, and adjusted the size so it would fit properly. "But-"

Dana leaned forward quickly so the microphone was right up against her mouth, her voice impatient. "Cecil Gershwin, for the love of the Glow Cloud, don't make me come in there."

They stared at each other for another long, awkward moment, the girl staring at him intently. After many seconds, Cecil slowly took in a long breath, and his intern raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"But-"

Dana shoved the microphone away from her and pulled her headset down from over her ears all in one motion, tossing the headset onto the desk. She pushed her wheeling office chair out of her way, and flung the door between the studio rooms open.

"Are you seriously still thinking like this?!" She threw her hands up in the air. "I feel like we've been over this every day since you started dating him. Darn-it, Cecil, you're smart, funny, talented, and devastatingly handsome with the voice of a commercial sex god. How could you possibly think that he doesn't like you?"

"But he's just so confusing!" Cecil replied slumping into his office chair, his voice cracking slightly. "There are times when I seriously feel like he'd rather be somewhere else or doing something else. Maybe even _with_ someone else. He's spacey, but he goes off on his rants about things that I know almost nothing about, and whenever I come back looking or sounding like I don't understand, he just sighs and says 'never mind,' in this disappointed tone of his." He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. "Dana, he's so perfect, and I feel like I can't make him happy."

The intern stood in front of the radio host with her arms crossed, her face gradually softening as she listened to him. When he'd finished, she dropped her arms to her sides and let out a breath. "Cecil," she said gently, "You really need to stop looking at things like that. You know Carlos was like that with you even before he met you at the Arby's. You've always been the person he's come to whenever he's needed anything. You have to remind yourself that he's a scientist. He's spacey because there's a lot on his mind and he's constantly surrounded by things he doesn't understand." She ran a hand through her untamable, curly, black hair. "Think about it. When he asks you questions and you explain things about Night Vale, how does he react?"

The famed radio host was still slouching, having sunk more deeply into his chair. He looked up at her pitifully with glowing, violet eyes, a pout sitting on his lips.

"Well?" She asked gently.

"Well…" Cecil's eyes dropped to the side as he trailed off in thought.

The door to Cecil's studio was suddenly flung open, and he and the intern both jumped, turning in one motion to see who'd entered. Intern Brad stood in the doorway, huffing loudly, his shoulders heaving up and down. "S-sorry," he said holding up a hand in apology. "Sir," he puffed out, addressing Cecil, "There was a recent time jump throughout the city. You're on in the next sixty seconds."

All three heads in the room turned to look at the office clock.

It, as always, was stuck on the same time as it always was because none of the clocks in Night Vale were real.

There was a short moment in which no one moved or said anything before the girl and the radio host both exploded into action. Dana dove back through the door between their offices and snatched up her microphone, tossing her unfinished dinner aside. Cecil rushed to put his headset back on and scrambled for his stack of notes, trying desperately to put them back in order as he barked orders.

"Get the sound board ready with the opening theme. Make sure the sponsor tape is the right one for the day, it should be there on the desk with you. Make sure your mic is set so I'll be able to hear you but the listeners won't, okay? Is Wednesday canceled again this week? Where's my coffee? Do we have any info on the time jump and why it happened? Oh, forget it, I'll just see for myself on the weather break. What's the breaking story? Well, the time jump, obviously. Do I even have an opening prompt for the show?!" He looked up quickly to see Dana through the window, tossing papers about frantically, her curly hair flopping about. The bandana that usually kept it out of her face was no where to be seen. "Forget it, forget it, we're just going in improvising! Dana get your headset on, now!"

The intern threw the papers off of the desk with a swipe of her hand and flopped down into her chair, jamming the headphones down over her ears. She flipped one or two switches on the switchboard and hit the play button on the recorder in front of her, starting the opening theme. While she normally would have done a count down from three, this time, she instead pointed frantically at Cecil through the window, thrusting out her arm.

The radio host began speaking, voice suddenly smooth and flawless. "Do not mind the shadows you see moving about your house in the dark of night. We are only here to protect you from your terrible, impending fate. Welcome … to Night Vale."

Dana's head connected with her desk as she took a deep breath, eyes closed. It amazed her how her mentor could be in such a negative state, but was always able to flawlessly snap back into being a professional radio host the moment it was needed. Cecil Palmer, The Voice of Night Vale, King of Night Vale Community Radio. The smooth talking, silver-tongued prince of the airwaves.

"Listeners, do you ever question your relationship?

Or not.

"Like, do you ever look at the person you're in a romantic partnership with and wonder, 'Are they really into me, or are they just with me because I'm,' oh, I don't know, 'exceedingly good looking, or useful? Do I really make them happy? Or are they just putting up with me because I'm the best they could find in this crummy little town?'"

Dana lifted her head from the desk and peered in at Cecil. Her mentor was sitting with his chin resting on one hand, looking wistfully forlorn. Rolling her eyes, she ran her hand through her hair in frustration and leaned forward, tapping on the window. Cecil's eyes shot up to look at her, and Dana held up one of the notes that she'd kept on the table, pointing at the title of it which read 'Recent Local News.' Cecil pouted, and the intern glared.

"Enough of that for right now, listeners. After all, I am professional. Before I badger you with romantic inquiries, lets go to today's news." He shuffled through his papers and began reading out the day's most recent announcements, most of them having to do with a herd of orange buffalo that had appeared outside of Night Vale, and were stampeding closer.

Dana rubbed her eyes.

As the show went on, she found herself periodically reaching up to tap on the window to keep Cecil on track and alert. Whenever he ended up mentioning something regarding Carlos she would hold up a warning note she'd kept from Station Management about the last time he went off about personal subjects. At one point, when he began to slip into a rant about the way Carlos had been distracted when they walked among the Night Vale marketplace on their most recent date, she found herself scribbling out a note on a pice of printer paper in thick, black marker, before slapping it against the glass and taping it there.

**_YOU'RE ON THE AIR_.**

By the time he was to read the traffic report, she found herself getting frustrated. The moment that Cecil leaned back in his chair and opened his third, omnipresent eye to spy on Night Vale's roads, Dana found herself pulling off her headset and digging around in her satchel for her phone, scrolling down to the C's in her addresses.

_R u listening to the show rite now?_

_Of course I am, I never miss it. Don't tell him that though._

_I won't. He thinks u never listen to it anyway so he'd be mortified. U should txt him and help him chill his beans. He was sulking all day._

_I know. I feel badly. I didn't realize I was making him feel like this._

_He'll get over it, u know he's dramatic. He just wants u to approve of him._

_I do more than approve of him, I'm crazy about him. It's hard to focus when he's around. Have you ever noticed how amazing he smells?!_

_TMI._

_Sorry. _

_...Ur so right tho._

_I know. :)_  
_I'll text him now._

_Don't tell him I texted you. _

_I won't. Thank you, Dana._

_Thanks, Carlos. 3_

"The storm gathers quickly," Cecil chanted into his microphone. "Black, sinister clouds gather rapidly, bringing with them a thick, oppressive scent of lemongrass. The rain begins to pound down upon the asphalt with a great ferocity. Wisps of steam rise from the road that was roasting under the bright, desert moon, only moments beforehand. The squealing of tires reaches your ears, and in horror, you realize that you've lost control over your vehicle. Your vehicle that you only just paid off at the end of last month. Panicking, you yank the steering wheel, trying to regain control of your now rogue car. The screeching of tires is heard again, and you brace yourself as you realize that it's already too late. The storm is unrelenting, and the rain pelts down harder, mocking you as your tires spin out, and your vehicle aggressively flies into - Oh!"

Cecil jumped as his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. "I just got a text message? Listeners, my phone just started buzzing, but who would be texting me while I'm broadcasting? Everyone knows that I'm on at this hour every night. Primarily because, aside from the Number Station, this is the only station within any signal for miles and miles. Until you reach Desert Bluffs, probably. I'm curious that it might be something important. I'll just go ahead and take a quick look."

The radio host lifted his phone to his face, and Dana watched as his violet eyes suddenly began to emit a soft, purple glow. His face softened from intent curiosity as he scanned over the text, and a faint smile spread over his lips. A moment later, when he'd finished scanning the message, he slowly set his phone back down beside him, and quietly stared down at the switchboard in contemplation before raising his eyes again to look at his intern.

Behind the window, Dana pretended to be organizing her notes from all over the floor, and Cecil, suddenly remembering he was still on air, quickly snapped back to the microphone.

"Uh, Night Vale," he started out slowly, a smile still tugging unendingly at his lips. "The message I just received is from Carlos. The scientist." His voice was quiet and wistful as his eyes still thoughtfully scanned the desk in front of him, not really seeing it. Dana, having looked back up from her papers, grinned to herself as she saw the soft smile still hovering over his features.

"While part of me would love to share it with you," he continued, his voice low and serene, "There is another part that would like for me to keep this one to myself. So, that is what I think I will do. I will say, however, that it has erased any doubt that I was having previously tonight. It's also made me feel quite silly. While I know Carlos sometimes seems distracted and perhaps even uninterested, I know that this is not true. He cares about me very much, in fact. Very much, indeed, and I feel awful that I doubted him."

Cecil trailed off, and he glanced back through the window at his intern. She sat looking back at him calmly, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. The radio host mirrored her expression for a moment, until she blinked, remembering that he was still broadcasting, and quickly pointed to his microphone.

Jumping again and running a hand through his pale blonde hair, Cecil turned back to it, speaking in his usual radio voice. "And now, listeners, after having my doubts shattered and replaced with a joyous certainty, I give you … The Weather."

Cecil finished the show, saying nothing more about Carlos or the text message he'd received, but instead commented on the mysterious time jumps that had continued to plague Night Vale all night, until stopping at exactly midnight. Though they had apparently moved the entire herd of strange buffalo to the other side of the city, which continued moving in the same direction, now away from Night Vale.

"While no one is sure where the random time jumps came from, or why they suddenly stopped, they seem to have saved the city from being trampled, and therefor, we should be grateful to them, regardless of what catastrophe may have caused them to happen."

Dana rubbed her temples.

"So, listeners, having once again avoided complete and utter destruction from a terrifying, outside force, I wish you all a safe and dream filled sleep. May all your nightmares be chased away by the knowledge that you are safe here. Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."

He pulled his headset down from over his ears and stopped the broadcast. Standing up, he opened the door between the two studios and leaned in the doorway, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. Dana avoided looking him in the eyes, and distracted herself by turning off the remainder of her equipment, and reorganizing the desk from her earlier rampage.

"Nice save," she commented, switching off her own microphone and pulling off her headset. "We had pretty much nothing ready but you totally pulled it off. Well done."

"Aren't I the one normally saying those words to you," Cecil replied with an eyebrow risen.

His intern shrugged. "Well, you know, I mean, you're the one they listen to. You improvised it really well."

The Voice of Night Vale shrugged. "Well, thanks. Also, thanks for setting me straight. Er, y'know."

"You're welcome," she replied, still avoiding his eyes. "Maybe I should leave the note on the window. That way I can just point at it every time you start to go off on tangents."

Cecil saw through her and smiled widely. "You know that's not what I meant Dana."

She didn't reply, and pulled her leather satchel from around the back of her chair,

slinging it around her shoulder. "Well, goodnight. I have to run."

"You don't want to stay and help me shut down?"

Dana turned, her black curls bouncing around her head, looking Cecil in the eyes for the first time since he came in. He was smiling softly at her, the corner of his mouth turned up. A knowing glint danced behind his eyes.

"I have to help my mom and brother with some things. Sorry, Cecil. I'll see you tomorrow though."

The radio host nodded and smiled at her again. "See you tomorrow, Dana."

The intern moved through the doorway and let out a breath she'd been holding in. Letting the door click shut behind her, she smiled to herself and felt a little burst of pride surge through her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she bounced into to air once and let out a small squeak before running down the hallway.

'I should get paid extra just to help Cecil through things like that,' she thought jokingly to herself, as she moved through the bloodstone door. 'If I didn't love him so much, I just might demand it.'

Cecil flopped down into his desk chair and picked up his phone from off of his desk. He rotated it around in his fingers a few times, staring blankly at it before unlocking its screen and hitting the call button twice. Hesitantly, he put it to his ear.

It rang only once before Carlos answered, his oaky voice filling Cecil with a warm calmness.

"Hey, love. So I guess you got my text?"

The radio host grinned and put his feet up on the desk, playing with the laces of his purple Converse. "Yeah, I did. Thanks. I guess you were listening to my show?"

"No, I just felt the need to let you know I was thinking about you. I've been out in the desert most of the day, trying to clock these time jumps. I didn't have a radio around."

"You can be honest you know. It wouldn't make it mean any less."

"Hm? I don't know what you mean."

"Carlos," Cecil sighed, leaning back in his chair, "I know Dana texted you."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before he heard the scientist let out a small sigh. "I told her I wouldn't tell you, but I have a feeling you wouldn't believe me anyway. Were you watching?"

"No, actually, I haven't been spying on anyone for most of the day. This third eye has been closed up tight." He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I just knew."

"Yeah," Carlos replied, and Cecil thought he could hear the hint of a smile on his lips. "She's a good kid. I don't want you to think that I didn't mean any of what I said, though. I already know I come across as distant and unfocussed sometimes, and I know I sometimes don't express how I feel very well. I'll work on that."

"You really think of me all of the time like you said?"

"Every minute."

Cecil grinned and tipped his head back, closing his eyes, and opening his third, omnipresent one. He found Carlos sitting on the hood of his car, outside the station. He was staring up at the starry sky, his own cellphone held to his ear.

"That's all I needed to hear."

"I'm waiting for you outside, you know."

"I know."

Carlos flipped his phone shut and let out a long breath, trying to calm the racing heart that Cecil's voice always inspired in him. Clicking a few buttons on his cell, he moved down to the conversation he'd had only a half an hour earlier, and smiled to himself as he read it.


End file.
